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Friday, September 25, 2009

Homicide - Hussey: Just Funny Stuff

(Note: I switched to the 'new and improved' editing feature at blogger. Please accept my apologies if things don't work right at first. This post is the first one I've tried.)

This week, Detective Hussey chats with us about a cop's sense of humor.

Some things are just funny. Humor is something relative. In a cop’s world, everything gets distorted, including his sense of humor. Things that would have made him ill or repulsed him when he was younger, are sources of hilarity as he becomes a seasoned veteran. If you don’t find the following passages particularly humorous, I'm sorry. Trust me, after several years on the job, you would be roaring with laughter.

I was driving an unmarked car once, when I observed in front of me, a car which had obviously been struck in the rear by another vehicle. The trunk was pushed up and to the right. The trunk lock had been broken, but the collision had welded the trunk door in place, with a 10 inch gap between the door sill and the trunk lid. The taillight fixtures were covered with red transparent tape in order to comply with the law.

The gouges and creases in the metal had begun to rust, which meant that the accident occurred some time in the past, and the owner was in no hurry to repair it. On the mangled bumper of this bucket of bolts, was a fluorescent orange bumper sticker which had the words, “THIS VEHICLE HAS BEEN INVOLVED IN OVER 20,000 FATAL REAR END COLLISIONS”.

Pretty funny I thought, and chuckled to myself. This was not to be the end of the joke. As the traffic began to move, we made it around a corner and the traffic light changed from green to yellow. A white, Isuzu Rodeo stopped abruptly in traffic. The war wagon with the bumper sticker was unable to make the stop, and plowed into the rear of the white SUV.

A good friend of mine, Dewey Pollock, whom you met in an earlier chapter, was on patrol one dreary, rainy morning, when he happened upon a parked car with its windows open. The car was parked behind the old fire training tower, on the shore of Lake Parker, with its lights on. It was not unusual to find boys and girls parked in cars in this area late at night for the purposes of watching the “submarine races”. For someone to be here in the daylight, with windows open, was something different. It looked almost like the driver had run off the dirt road.

Perhaps a heart-attack, Dewey thought. He stopped the patrol car behind the suspect vehicle, and positioning his police hat with the rain cover on his head, he got out and walked toward the car. As Dewey got closer, he could hear rock and roll music playing softly inside the car. As he carefully approached, one hand on his gun, he noticed motion, then was able to view the entire interior of the car. He could see then that there was a couple inside, a man on top of a woman. The two were having sexual intercourse.

The man looked over his shoulder, and without stopping his up and down motion, said calmly, “Don’t worry officer, I’ve got a DIE HARD.”

Dewey thought for a moment, then returned to his car. “Guess he does at that."

***

Cops are called upon to do a variety of jobs during their careers. You may find yourself having to defend your life or the life of a fellow officer or a citizen previously unknown to you. It may require you to take that person’s life, or to sacrifice your own.

Most of the time though, the tasks are less lethal and more skill oriented. You may be called to get a snake out of a garage, or a cat out of a tree. You may have to administer CPR or first aid to dying person, or to deliver a baby in the back seat of a patrol car or taxi cab. You may need to make decisions regarding the welfare of children and small animals.

You have to have limited knowledge in nearly every field because sooner or later, you will be called upon to discuss some subject you know little or nothing about. You’ll have to be able to BS your way through it. Cops are expected to be the experts on everything from pre-marital sex to comparative religion, from chemical warfare to baby care. You may even be called upon from time to time to “unofficially” dabble in areas of civil law, which are generally restricted to persons who have doctoral degrees in Jurisprudence.

One such case, and I know now that there have been many, took place at the Dakota Apartments one cold winter night just before New Years. I was the backup officer on a family disturbance call. Officer Herb Koffler arrived just ahead of me. As we approached the door to the apartment, we could hear a heated verbal argument going on inside. Herb leaned toward the door for a moment and listened before using his Kell light to rap on the door. The yelling and screaming ceased, and the door opened just a crack.

“What the hell’s going on here?” Herb asked.

“Me and my ol’ lady havin’ a argument,” the little bald man replied.

“Bout what?” Herb inquired, pushing his hat back on his head. “Like I really give a shit,” he said under his breath.

“I’m tired a livin’ like dis here,” the old man replied.

“Me too,” the woman added.

“Why don’t you two get divorced?" I asked

Herb shot me look, like “Dumb ass rookie.”

“We can’t afford no lawyer.” The old gentleman lowered his eyes.

“Lawyer? You don’t need a lawyer. I’ll divorce you right now.” Herb smiled. The two older folks looked suspiciously at the officer.

“How you do dat?” the man asked.

“Easy. Do both of you want to get divorced?"

They nodded emphatically to the affirmative.

“Well then," he said. “Place both of your right hands on my badge.”

The man and woman complied.

“Repeat after me,” Herb said, lowering his voice in a reverent manner. “I do hereby divorce you, in the name of the Father, the son and the Holy Ghost.”

The astounded couple repeated the concocted vows.

“Congratulations,” Herb yelled loud enough to male me jump. “You’re divorced, now get the hell out of here.”

The old man began laughing and jumping with glee as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He grabbed a pillowcase and stopped here and there, picking up clothes and putting them into the makeshift suitcase. “Finally, I done wit’ you bitch,” he said.

“Well I’m done wit yo’ black ass too”, the woman said.

“Thanks officers.” The man grinned shaking both of our hands vigorously on his way out the front door.

“Okay, lock your door and have a good one,” Herb said to the lady.

“Sho will,” she said happily.

As we walked back to the car I asked the veteran officer if he had ever done that before.

“Sure, lots of times, marriages too. Exorcisms, séances, and last rights. We do it all. Protect and serve is a broad-band statement.”

I thought about how happy the couple was. It wasn’t like they had any property or child custody disputes, so why make the attorneys and the courts rich? We had provided another valuable service at a government rate.

I'm not a cop, never have been one, never will, but I thought these were hilarious. (I don't think the academy would accept a 4'9" senior citizen) But then, I've been accused of being "different" from time to time.

Die Hard. Love it. If you want more funny cop stories, pick up a copy of You got photos? you got prints? you ain't got s**t by Timothy Bowen. He's a retired LAPD officer who has decidedly skewed outlook on his years as a cop. He's especially fond of giving it to his supervisors.

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